Cities are stones
People aren't important
People breed and die [bad word] and they go
Faithless

But stones are [bad word] They don't die
They don't go anywhere

Stones talk like our fathers talk
Languages of hope & fear
that we don't understand
Like poetry

Nobody understands
Nobody understands
All the words that we've cherished for so long
fall on deaf ears
Children, hear our hopes and fears
Hope and fear

In awful solitude they and we
speak past each other
whispering in the dark
strange talk

Nobody understands
Nobody understands
All the words that we've cherished for so long
fall on deaf ears
Children, hear our hopes and fears
Hope and fear

The sun sets and people flee
and in the surrounding hills
they huddle against the empty darkness
around suburban campfires
Above in the sky the [bad word] undone
Below in the city there's nothing but strange talk
It feels like all the faded hopes that never were